


Bunny Ears

by 2Atoms



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, Eating out, F/F, Heads up: Trixie gets manipulated, Lesbians bein' useless lesbians, Mild Hurt/Comfort, PWP, PlayBoyBunny!Katya, PlayBoyBunny!Trixie, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 20:52:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16981602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Atoms/pseuds/2Atoms
Summary: New Playboy Bunny Trixie is having a rough time at work. Fortunately, she's got a someone in her corner, in the form of her sexy, aloof, definitely-not-gay mentor.





	Bunny Ears

**Author's Note:**

> This is directly inspired by the music video for Boys Aside by Sofya Wang.  
> The ever amazing Lau (fookoff on tumblr) both recommended the video and did some amazing fanart for this. 
> 
> [Here’s the link!](http://fookoff.tumblr.com/post/181115321421/i-did-so-fanart-for-bunny-ears-by-2atoms-on-ao3)  
> Happy reading!

Since her last open mic night, Trixie’s life had been spun on its head. Being recognised by a promoter was the opportunity of a lifetime, and there was no way Trixie was staying in the grimy outskirts of Milwaukee. Not when that talent scout was writing a cheque with her name on it.

But a month later, once she was over the bright lights and smog of Los Angeles, Trixie found herself trudging to work at a Playboy club. Her dream of performing there was a lifetime away. Talking to the other girls, it was clear she’d been conned. It definitely wasn’t the glitz and glamour she’d been sold. No one here really cared if she was “the most talented untrained singer” the talent scout had ever seen. No one cared about her dreams of arena tours, of being a recording artist. They just cared that she had big tits and a pretty face. Every day she just had to bat her eyelashes, look demure, serve drinks, clear tables, and generally play into the fantasies of Hollywood’s unhappily married rich and famous.

But shit, it paid an awful lot better than serving at the crappy bars back in Wisconsin.

The one saving grace was her new friends. She’d found her people in the cramped dressing rooms of the Playboy club, gossiping and laughing together before and after each stressful, torturous night. A few of the younger girls were bitchy and competitive, fighting over which wrinkly old patron they got to serve, but on the whole, her co-workers were lovely. They were kind and understanding. Some of them loved makeup as much as she did. Others talked about music or helped her shop for outfits. And then there was her mentor. A little under thirty, Katya was the oldest bunny still working the bar floor. Natural blonde with a striking face, fitter than any of the other girls, she was forever working longer hours and earning more than anyone else.

Katya had been keeping an eye on her, far more than the other new recruits. She’d openly campaigned to management for the chance to personally train Trixie, stuck up for her new protegee at every turn in a confusing and hectic industry. When Trixie wasn’t being paid for her training, Katya had marched straight into the club’s tiny HR office and demanded that Trixie saw a paycheck. If Trixie wanted a patron kicked out, Katya made certain it happened immediately. When Trixie went back to her crappy shared apartment at night, she’d see social media friend requests from Katya. There wasn’t a day that went by without the older woman making herself known in Trixie’s life. Trixie was grateful for the friendship, for the advice from a more experienced bunny, and for someone to rely on just a few weeks after her ridiculous, impromptu move to LA. Katya was there for her when her boss didn’t care. Katya was a buffer between her and the club owner, which she was forever grateful for. Trixie hated talking to him directly. Paul. He was sleazy and greasy, and Trixie could barely tell him apart from their clients.

Despite everything she did for her, Trixie never really got to know Katya. They were never alone together. Some nights, when they were wrenching off their heels in the tiny dressing room behind the bar, Katya would give her long, searching looks that made Trixie question everything. She’d never come out to anyone but herself, least of all her new LA friends. Those lingering looks Katya gave her, the compliments, the lingering touches, it made her wish she could tell Katya how she felt.

*

The patrons were always a bit gross. They’d always make crude comments, always leave small enough gaps that Trixie had to brush up against them to get to the tables. On most nights, Trixie handled it fine. It was nothing new. She knew the kind of men that would hang around strip clubs and bars, they found her body enticing and felt entitled to it. It was wrong, sure, but she ignored it all with a smile. ‘That’s your job’, the manager would remind her. ‘You’re a big girl. You can handle yourself.’ She’d seen it back in Wisconsin. Working in an exclusive Playboy club just meant higher egos, from the patrons. With bigger egos came bigger tips, but bigger risk.

*

She didn’t realise something was wrong until she was face down on the table.

Trixie prided herself on her intuition. On knowing when something was amiss. On defusing a situation before it escalated. Except now there was a broken wine glass pressing into her cheek, a huge hand forcing her face closer to it. Pain seared through her face, barely distracting her from the horror of hands on her. Hands on her body, grabbing at her waist, and at the fat of her hips, and at the top of her costume. Maybe she’d just bleed out on the table. She could just die here.

This kind of thing would happen to other girls on a fortnightly basis. A customer would get too drunk, or too rowdy. Things would get out of hand before security noticed. This time, it happened to her.

Before she knew it, two of the other bunnies were helping her up, partially carrying her through the ‘staff only’ door to sit on the staircase. With frantic apologies, they scampered back to the bar, probably to help clear up or apologise to the other patrons. Trixie was left alone. The room was dark, and the air con unit was noisy, blowing hot air into the dank corridor. Above everything else, she could hear Katya shouting.

“I don’t give a fuck, Marcus. Get him out of here. He’s not coming back in this damn bar!”

Trixie was still shaking. She tried to pull up the top of her stupid bodice, wrestling the crappy material up from where it was cinched around her ribs, suddenly feeling more naked than she had since her first night working here. Suddenly, Katya was barrelling around the corner, heels click-clacking against the floor in a furious rhythm. Trixie could see how her muscles were tensed, her entire body seething with anger. She tried to shrink out of Katya’s way, not wanting to be noticed, but Katya came to a halt in front of her, concern showing through the strong lines of her face.     

“Oh, sweetheart…”

After non-verbally asking permission, she stroked a hand over Trixie’s closest shoulder, rubbing her skin in comfort. It was all too much. Trixie wrenched her wonky bunny ears off her head, cringing as the hairpins pulled at her scalp. Katya stilled her hands, carefully removing each bobby pin until the headband was free. Trixie felt herself trying not to cry, eyes watering and chin trembling. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Not after only four weeks here. She was gonna be fired. Or quit. Katya was here to let her down easy. This was the end. She was going back to Wisconsin.

Katya was talking to her. Pulling her by the hand. She roughly swiped at her eyes until she could see just enough to follow a blurry Katya upstairs, up to the shadier part of the club that wasn’t supposed to exist. Trixie tried to ignore the searing pain in her cheek, desperate not to sob out loud, trying to even out her rapid breathing. Katya was still talking.

“… and he’s never coming back. I’ll make damn sure of it. Security’s kicked him out, and they’ll call the police if he comes back. I don’t give a fuck how rich or famous he is. Management’s never gonna hear the end of it if he does come back. You’re totally safe, okay?”

Trixie nodded, ignoring how uneasy she felt.

Despite everything Katya did for her, this was the most time they’d ever actually spent alone together. Katya was always too busy helping everyone else. Being a whirlwind. Tidying dressing rooms, messing up the bar, dancing, laughing, twirling from one girl’s dressing table to another. Trixie had never seen her this still.

Trixie had never been in here before. She wasn’t one of the girls that did ‘private’ performances, that was reserved for the performers, and occasionally a cash-strapped bunny. The room Katya was unlocking was unfamiliar. It was the most expensive, though. She knew that. The one that the famous guests disappeared into with the most experienced bunnies. With bunnies like Katya.

She’d always been curious about what was in there. What kind of debauched sex dungeon, roleplay set, or boring hotel room lay inside. It was none of those things. The centre of the room was taken up by a lavish four-poster, the kind Trixie could only dream of sleeping in. The opposite wall was completely occupied by a chaise lounge, huge and lavishly covered in lush quilted velvet. It probably cost more than Trixie would earn all month. Katya led her onto it with no regard for blood or sweat or dirt, settling Trixie down with steady, comforting hands.

“Is this okay?” Trixie asked her, unsure if she was even allowed to be in here. She wasn’t meant to know this room existed. Katya laughed softly, getting up to lock the door, then rummaging through one of the bedside tables. Trixie tried not to think about what might be in there. Fortunately, Katya retrieved a first aid kit, and a bottle of water for Trixie.

She sat next to the younger girl, leaving around a foot between them on the huge couch.

“You’re fine. Can I clean you up?” Katya motioned towards the painful side of Trixie’s face, which Trixie herself hadn’t even looked at yet. At her shocked expression, Katya seemed to realise her confusion. They weren’t allowed phones on the job, but nonetheless, Katya reached into her own bodysuit, stupid ears still perched on her tousled blonde hair, retrieving her cell phone from inside it. She handed it to Trixie as a mirror, and for the first time, Trixie realised the damage that had been done to her face. She couldn’t see any glass, but a series of red gashes sat over her right cheekbone. Trixie could see her own face paling, and she dropped the phone onto the couch in shock.

“Fuck.”

“I’m sorry.” Katya breathed, tilting her head to watch Trixie’s reaction. With tentative fingers she guided Trixie’s head to see the wound better, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “I think it’s not too deep.”

She was trying to reassure Trixie, but it all felt too real. Katya’s breath, her pitying eyes, the fingers on her face. Trixie really tried not to cry, but she couldn’t help it. Least of all with Katya looking at her like that.

 “It’s all gonna be okay.”

With unexpected tenderness, Katya carefully cleaned Trixie’s face, apologising every time she pressed too hard or had to disinfect a cut. She only found one shard of glass, and Trixie felt unbelievably grateful that she hadn’t had to get the glass out herself.

*

After Katya patched her up, they sat in total silence. She’d long since finished crying, and Trixie’s breathing gradually evened out. After a few minutes, she couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“Am I fired?”

Katya looked at her in shock, setting her phone aside once again. Trixie clarified, “From here, I mean. Am I fired now?”

“God no. Not unless you want to quit. Which I totally get. I’ll make sure you get paid for this time now, though.”

“I don’t wanna quit, I don’t think,” Trixie whispered, and Katya leant in closer to hear her. “But my face…”

“Your face is beautiful, honey. Don’t worry. You’ll get sick leave while it heals.” Trixie snorted, slamming her face in her hands petulantly. She tried not to wince as her cut skin ached, and Katya moved her hands uselessly to try and stop the pain.

“You will. I’ll make sure you get paid. They’re lucky you’re not suing.”

Trixie laughed properly this time.

“You’re very upset about this.”

Katya looked at her sadly, fiddling with the remnants of the first aid kit packaging from where she’d smoothed band-aids over Trixie’s skin.

“You shouldn’t have to put up with this. Those men are so entitled. They see a pretty woman and think they can just… grab. You don’t deserve this.”

Katya’s anger had dispelled as soon as they entered this room, but Trixie could hear it a little in her voice now. The kind of anger that came from years and years of witnessing the unjust treatment of your colleagues. The kind of anger that came from watching enthusiastic young artists turned into unwilling sex workers. An anger that contrasted everything she’d done for Trixie in the last hour.

The carpet was plush under Trixie’s feet. She eased her heels off her aching feet. Katya did the same, scattering her beaten-up old Louboutins between Trixie’s cheap pair of white stiletto pumps.

“Thank you.”

Katya gave a small smile, one hand going to her lopsided bunny ears.

“I think I’m done for the night too.”

Trixie brought both legs onto the bench, kneeling up over Katya and stroking her fingers through Katya’s hair to gently free the clips that held her bunny ears on. It was intimate and so much easier than trying to free your own ears at the end of a difficult shift, Trixie knew. Even once the headpiece was free, Trixie kept combing her fingers through Katya’s blonde hair, telling herself she was just looking for runaway clips. With each gentle tug and scratch, Katya would moan, leaning back against the chaise lounge. Trixie started to tug a little harder and felt Katya grabbing her bicep tightly.

“That feels so good, Trix.”

And that’s just her hair.

Suddenly, Katya’s hand left her, and she was on her feet. Shocked by the change of pace, Trixie grabbed onto the back of the chaise to keep her balance, mouth hanging open as Katya paced towards the door.

“What’s going on?” she demanded, trying not to sound upset that Katya had left her so abruptly.

Oh my god. Katya was naked.

“Just getting comfy.”

Katya was facing the door, fair hanging down her back, the curve of her spine visible in the low light. Trixie wasn’t sure if she should look away. She didn’t want to. Trixie barely got a glimpse of her toned, gently curving ass before Katya covered herself with a cream silk robe, procured from the back of the door. The gown was tied just below her sternum, hiding her lower body but leaving a tempting v shape leading down from her collarbones. This wasn’t fair. She was far too attractive to be doing this to Trixie. She didn’t know whether to look away or try and appear unbothered.  What kind of lesbian hell. Trixie tried not to focus on the swell of her breasts as Katya sauntered back towards her, averting her eyes to literally anywhere else. Fuck.

Katya settled herself down next to Trixie, toes curling in the thick carpet. In contrast to Trixie’s attempts not to stare, Katya was watching her intently. When Trixie finally forced herself to meet Katya’s eyes, she was leaning in barely six inches from Trixie’s face, gown gaping open. Trixie froze. 

Suddenly, she sat up straight, away from Trixie.

“Oh my god. Are you okay? Did that make you uncomfortable? I’m so sorry…”

“No!” Trixie insisted loudly, before lowering her voice. “That was… fine. Good. I was just surprised, is all.”

She was sure her face was bright red, and she cursed her makeup for rubbing off as Katya had cleaned her face. Katya was equally shocked, maybe even embarrassed, and that comforted Trixie a little. They were both hopeless, apparently.

“Surprised? Trix, I thought we were on the same page. I’ve been flirting with you for weeks!”

Oh. Oh.

“Wait… are you a lesbian?”

Katya was full on laughing now.

“What?” Trixie asked, trying not to laugh too. Katya’s laugh was so maniacal, it was contagious.

“You’re totally gay, right Trix?”

She couldn’t even say the words. Trixie just nodded mutely, focusing on where Katya’s feet were burying themselves in the carpet.

“Are you sure you want this?” Katya asked, before clarifying. “To have sex with me, I mean? Is that what you want?”

“Oh! Yeah. I mean…. Yeah, totally.”

Trixie looked up to meet Katya’s eyes again, trying not to falter under the intensity of the older woman’s gaze. It felt sudden. Unexpected. But this is definitely what she wanted. Definitely.

Katya smiled.

“Totally?”

“Totally.” She confirmed, smiling back. This was exciting.

Katya settled back down onto the chaise, looking at ease once again. This was so clearly her element. Trixie tried not to think about who else she must have been in this room with, and live in the moment. She was the one Katya wanted to be with right now. That’s what counted.

“Can I get you out of that stupid fuckin’ outfit?”

“God yes.”

Trixie twisted to let Katya undo her neck-piece, and then the side of her costume, sighing as the tight material eased around her ribs and breasts. The costumes were ridiculously tight, obviously made for less curvy bunnies, and despite the tailoring, Trixie had done to it herself it always begun to ache by the end of the night. Red lines were printed into her skin from the bodice, and Katya ran her fingers over them as she pulled down the black material.

She stood up to take off the rest of the suit, Katya helping to tug it over her hips. She noticed Katya laugh as they finally got the costume over her ass. Before the self-consciousness could set in, she felt Katya tugging at the hip of her underwear. Or rather, her lacy pink thong. This job could take everything else from her, standardise her hair and clothes and behaviour, but there was no way Trixie would step out of her house without something pink. She threw the costume down beside the bed, ignoring the way it would be crumpled the next day.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous.” Katya breathed out, reclining to take in Trixie’s body.

“Really?”

“Oh my god, baby, of course.”

Katya reached out both hands for her and Trixie obliged, straddling the older woman on the couch, careful not to put too much weight on her. Underneath her, Katya watched reverently, hands dancing lightly up and down Trixie’s body, never touching, unable to settle.

“You’re the most beautiful girl we’ve ever had here. I wanted you the second we met.”

“Paul told me I needed to lose weight.” It was the first time Trixie had admitted that. To anyone. That her boss had convinced her she should be grateful for this job. That normally they didn’t take fat bunnies. Katya just scoffed.

“Paul’s a dog-shit excuse for a boss. I’ve been running this place for years. And he doesn’t know shit about women. You’re the hottest bunny here, Trixie Mattel.”

With both hands on her hips, Katya forced Trixie down, made her put her full weight on Katya. Looking down she could see how her thighs splayed out, big enough to fully cover Katya’s. For the first time, Katya pulled her down until their lips met.

That anger was back. Anger that, when not directed at her, Trixie was beginning to find incredibly sexy.

Katya’s passion was evident in the way she kissed. The way she nipped at Trixie’s bottom lip, held one hand behind Trixie’s head so that she couldn’t back away, even when the pressure felt hard enough to bruise.

“I’m gonna make you believe me.”

Trixie whimpered. When she arched her back enough, she could press their torsos together, feel the barely-there friction of Katya’s silk robe against her breasts. It wasn’t nearly enough.

“Can I touch you?” she asked, desperate.

She was desperate to feel the toned flesh of Katya’s body. She hadn’t missed the way Katya’s muscles flexed when she moved heavy trays or pushed aside a particularly rowdy customer. She wanted those arms locked around her, holding her in place against Katya’s pussy, or holding Katya’s weight above her. Apparently, not today though.

Katya shook her head, no, rubbing one hand across Trixie’s soft thigh and the other over her neck, gripping experimentally. Trixie whined, trying to grind down onto Katya’s legs, making the older woman laugh.

“Are you that desperate?” Katya teased her as she ran both hands along the lines of Trixie’s thong, twisting the material around her fingers.

“Yeah.” Trixie was shameless now. This wasn’t how she’d expected her night to end, but now she needed this. Needed to contact. The affection. After a month of no physical contact with anyone, she couldn’t imagine going a second longer without Katya’s hands on her.

“There’s lube in that cabinet.” Katya’s voice was nonchalant, and she didn’t move. Trixie stared down at her, unsure of what was happening.

“What?”

“Go get it, baby.”

Trixie climbed off Katya’s lap tentatively, feeling a little self-conscious. And a little turned on. She could feel Katya watching her as she walked across the room, and made the effort to put a little more sway in her hips. An unopened, expensive bottle of cherry lube sat atop everything else in the draw, and she tried to ignore the shake in her hands as she grabbed it. As expected, Katya was watching her intently, holding Trixie’s gaze as she stalked back across the room. Suddenly, everything felt surreal: the heaviness of the bottle in her hands, the thick rug under her aching feet. The distant murmur of the club below them was impressively muffled, but the room was so silent that Trixie could still hear it. Were they both on the clock, still? It didn’t matter.

Katya’s hands met hers, pulling them around the shorter woman’s neck and relieving her of the bottle. She could feel Katya kissing against her chest, at the point where her cleavage started, could imagine the faint red smudge of lipstick that would be left there until she got home that night.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.”

Trixie giggled, settling onto her knees beside Katya on the chaise.

“Really?”

“God, yes. Not to be gross, but those tits? To die for.” Katya grinned wide, both rows of white teeth on display. At Trixie’s laugh, she flushed red, lying her face against Trixie’s boobs. “Sorry, you probably get that all the time.”

“Hmm… I don’t mind it from you.” Trixie decided, pressing a kiss to the crown of Katya’s head.

At that, Katya seemed to return back to her demanding, bossy character. With one thumb, the nail still coated in a chipped red nail varnish, she dragged down Trixie’s face, pulling down her bottom lip roughly.

“Are you gonna let me look after you, baby?” she asked, rubbing teasingly over Trixie’s un-injured cheekbone. “You gonna let me feel good?”

And then, finally, Kayta’s hand snaked down Trixie’s hip, squeezing at the roll of fat between her hip and ribcage before wriggling the band of Trixie’s pink thong down, asymmetrically on one side. Trixie eagerly lifted up, her ass cleared from her calves to help Katya remove her panties. Once they were around her knees, then cleared to her ankles, Katya separated Trixie’s knees firmly. Katya finally kissed her, sloppy and firm, as one hand made its way to explore Trixie’s closely shaven cunt.

One more gasp for air, and then Katya was pushing her back, making Trixie spread her legs wider and use her arms to support her weight as the older woman nibbled and licked at her mouth. Trixie gasped at the cold of Katya’s fingers, coated with the glossy lube that she’d somehow managed to pry open. Two dexterous fingers thrust inside of her, and Trixie quickly forgot about the unexpected coolness. Instead, she could only think about the careful, precise pumping of Katya’s fingers, her short nails letting the pads of each finger press firmly against her walls. With a thumb flickering over her clit, it wasn’t long until Trixie was tensing her muscles, toes curling from the build-up of a much-anticipated orgasm. Their lips were still connected, even as Trixie’s jaw dropped, each firm stroke getting her closer, closer, closer…

Until Katya pulled away abruptly, fingering leaving Trixie’s pussy with no warning. Trixie heaved out a disappointed sob, their lips disconnecting with a wet noise. It took a second for Trixie to open her eyes. She couldn’t bear to face Katya after that disappointment. She’d been so vulnerable and trusting and … for what?

But Katya was just watching her curiously, intensely, head tilted like she was observing a particularly interesting drunk patron. What?

“Katya, why…” Trixie breathed out, barely present enough to speak.

“Not until I taste you, Princess.”

Fuck. Trixie groaned aloud, watching as Katya settled herself onto the floor, knees spread on the carpet. Her wide sleeves caught as she reached for Trixie, and Katya threw the robe off her shoulders in frustration, leaving the silky material barely hanging on around her hips. Trixie reached out a hand to touch her newly-exposed breasts, but Katya slapped it away, roughly pulling Trixie closer by the backs of her knees.

 Katya’s tongue was magic. Trixie had to lay back on her elbows as Katya worked, licking around Trixie’s labia, both hands forcing Trixie’s knees wider and wider each side of her head until the muscles in her groin ached. Finally, her tongue made contact with Trixie’s clit, flat and gentle, becoming increasingly pointed and fast, lapping at Trixie with a furious rhythm. However, as soon as Trixie got close, thighs fighting to close against Katya’s hands, she pulled away, blowing hot air across Trixie’s pussy as she whined in frustration.

“Please, Katya. Please.”

“M’kay.”

That was all it took. All it took for Katya to suck furiously at Trixie’s clit until she could barely catch her breath, to expertly lick her through a painfully strong, screaming orgasm. And then another.

*

Whilst Trixie had caught her breath Katya climbed back onto the chaise, grinning uncontrollably at the younger woman.

Katya pushed her down flat onto the chaise, the soft velvet welcoming against her bare back. Before her head hit the cushioned surface, Katya was pulling one leg up, firmly hooking it behind her head so that Trixie was opened up underneath her.

“You like this, baby?”

Trixie moaned a breathy yes as Katya positioned herself, one leg pressed up against Trixie’s soft waist. Katya dragged her pussy against Trixie’s still-sensitive cunt. The older woman struggling to keep the friction on her clit through their combined wetness, rolling her hips furiously with a clenched jaw. Trixie could see the sweat beading on her forehead, between her breasts and across her taut stomach. She could almost imagine the salty feeling on her tongue, combined with the cherry and the rich taste of Trixie’s pussy from where they kissed.

For the first time, Katya groaned out load, clawing at the back of the sofa as she desperately rutted against Trixie, trying new angles and pressures with no regard to the woman underneath her. Finally, as the minutes ticked past, Katya found what she was looking for, grinding down frantically, faster and faster, until she was writhing and shaking. One sweaty, salty hand slapped over Trixie’s mouth, preventing her from moaning or speaking, barely letting her breathe.

Trixie struggled not to pull away at the intensity, already exhausted and overstimulated, but determined for Katya to find her release. Finally, the older woman collapsed on top of her, still fucking her furiously. Trixie combed sticky fingers through her hair until Katya stopped moving, shallow breaths rattling through her chest. Finally, Katya rolled off her, let go of her face, never breaking contact as she wrapped an arm around Trixie’s waist. With sticky thighs, a swollen, sensitive pussy, and a distinct warmth around her waist and in her chest.

*

“You should get home, sweetheart.”

Katya pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead, just above her injured cheek, and Trixie opened her eyes reluctantly, just in time to blearily see Katya’s soft smile. The distinct smell of cherry and sex lingered in the air, and Katya had apparently dimmed the lights, making the room feel cosier.

As Katya helped her dress and called her a cab, she explained how she’d dreamed of opening her own club like this. How she’d been tricked into working here as a hired ‘dancer’ at the tender age of eighteen. How she’d been practising her routines again. How she wanted to quit, create somewhere for women. Where women were appreciated and respected and worshipped. She told Trixie all about her ideal bar. How now not everyone would have to drink. How the girls would be salaried, allowed to keep their own tips. How there would be no tolerance for anything less than perfect etiquette.

How she’d just signed the lease on a new venue.

How she wanted Trixie to go with her.  

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't my favourite thing I've ever posted, but I loved the concept. Beta'ing courtesy of Grammarly free lol
> 
> [Fan art!](http://fookoff.tumblr.com/post/181115321421/i-did-so-fanart-for-bunny-ears-by-2atoms-on-ao3)


End file.
